


Humiliation

by TheOrchid (loveoftheimpossible)



Category: Lost
Genre: (well at least sort of), Bondage, Consensual Kink Exploration, Food Kink, Hand Jobs, Human Furniture, Humiliation, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 08:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9991610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveoftheimpossible/pseuds/TheOrchid
Summary: Something inside him wants to be humiliated.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AgentDianeEvans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentDianeEvans/gifts).



> For the Tumblr prompt: Blocke & ’I want you to humiliate me.’ This ended up being longer than I expected, so I'm putting it here. Also, this is my first foray into the world of Lost fics, which is quite a way to start.

'....Sorry, can you repeat that?'

'I said, I want you to humiliate me,' Ben stated, as if this was a normal conversation to have. 'Tie me up like you used to in the Hatch, call me names, parade me around. I don't quite care _what_ you do.'

John rubbed a hand across his jaw, trying to process the request. 'And that's really what you want?'

'Yes, John, it is.' Ben's face was as unreadable as ever, though his arms were crossed over the small swell of his stomach in an almost defensive pose. John realized that for once in his life, the other man was telling the truth and that this was something that he wanted deeply, despite trying to make it seem otherwise.

He paused for a moment before a grin bloomed on his face, delighted and predatory all at once – an expression rarely seen outside of when John hunted boar. 'When do you wanna start then?'

~ • ~

John stepped back to admire his handiwork, watching as the other man tugged feebly at his bonds. Ben was quite securely tied to his own coffee table, wrists and ankles flush against the table legs, not a scrap of cloth covering his skin. The windows of living quarters were open, blinds pulled all the way up; it was already dark outside, but the light inside illuminated Ben’s form, making it easy to be seen by anyone who happened to pass by.

After taking his subject in for a few minutes, he retreated to the kitchen to gather up his supplies: a set of utensils neatly wrapped in a cloth napkin, a very full mug of dark red wine, and a large plate of leftover glazed ham with diced potatoes. Carefully, he brought the items back, placing each one delicately onto Ben’s prone form. They were both silent save for a quick statement from John that the plate was hot before it was settled onto Ben’s soft stomach, causing him to hiss slightly at the heat.

‘I warned you, didn't I?’ John responded as he sat himself down onto the couch close by. ‘Now then, I'd like to enjoy my dinner, so if you don't mind staying completely still for me….’

Ben tried his best to keep his breathing in check, as to not disturb the other man, but it was proving tougher than he had initially anticipated; it was easy to become distracted by the way John held himself as he ate, by the pleased _mm_ s and _oh_ s after every swallow, and he felt himself draw a breath too quickly, causing a large splash of wine to slip over the lip of the mug and slide down his chest.

‘I'm sorry, I –’ he began before John gave him a stern look, eyes darker than Ben remembered them to be.

‘Do you _enjoy_ making messes, Benjamin?’ John asked, sitting back on the couch; he didn't need to raise his voice to let Ben know how disappointed he was. ‘Do you enjoy ruining my meal? I asked you to do just _one_ simple thing for me, and you mess it up anyway.’

Ben bit down on his bottom lip to stay quiet, eyes looking towards the other side of the room to avoid the disappointed look on the other man’s face. He felt the dish being moved from his stomach – though a lingering heat remained there – before a wetness flowed across his body. His head whipped towards John, who was casually emptying the last few drops of wine onto his chest; everything was already beginning to feel unpleasantly sticky, and Ben squirmed slightly.

‘You're such a damn mess, Benjamin, just _look_ at yourself.’ John ran a finger through the liquid pooled around his belly button, making a disgusted face. He got up from the couch, bringing the plate and mug back to the kitchen before returning with paper towels.

Roughly, John began mopping up Ben’s wine-covered stomach, pure white paper towels turning a rich burgundy. The scratchiness of the paper carelessly brushed past Ben’s cock, causing a small whimper to escape passed his clenched teeth.

The other man stopped his ministrations and Ben could actually feel eyes raking down his body, slow and piercing. ‘What’s this now?’ John asked with a laugh in his voice before prodding at Ben’s semi-hard cock with a free finger. ‘You're _actually_ getting off on this? You're disgusting.’

John began cleaning Ben again, though this time more slowly, purposely dragging the damp paper towel over his cock every once in a while. Any time Ben shifted or make any kind of sound, he was given a look of revulsion, though it seemed to only be making matters worse for him. Once all the wine was dried away, Ben closed his eyes, feeling shamefully hard from the strong hands across his body.

‘I can't believe how hard you are from this,’ John laughed, tossing the towels into a nearby wastebin. ‘You _like_ this, don't even deny it. I wouldn't touch your filthy dick even if you paid me.’

Carelessly, John moved the utensils from earlier aside, leaving only the cloth napkin in his hand. Ben licked his lips, eyes flicking expectantly from the napkin to the man holding it, feebly trying to move closer despite the restraints.

‘Please.’ It came out as a whisper, and Ben felt ashamed he was even asking.

‘Please _what_? Do you want this?’ John’s hand, covered by the cloth napkin, closed around Ben’s cock, squeezing tightly _._

Ben let out a soft sob, trying to push his hips upward. ‘Yes, god,’ he answered. Almost as suddenly, the hand was gone, the cloth tucked into John’s back pocket; he could've cried from that alone.

Standing up once more, John circled the table, watched how Ben’s blue eyes followed him in anticipation, as if John was a vulture and he was injured prey. After a minute, he stopped in front of Ben’s spread legs.

‘I could crush your pathetic excuse for a penis under my boot and I bet you'd thank me,’ he stated coolly. The other man shivered and nodded, causing John to laugh again. ‘Maybe next time, Benjamin. You're not getting out of this so easily.’

John crouched down and retrieved the napkin from his pocket, wrapping it once more around Ben’s cock. Ben sighed in relief, head leaning back slightly as John roughly began to jerk him off. The fabric of the napkin against him felt abrasive and slightly uncomfortable, but that just heightened the embarrassment that was colouring his ears and cheeks. Sooner than he'd care to admit, he could feel himself creeping towards the edge.

‘You're really enjoying this, aren't you? You're too dirty for me to even touch, wouldn't want a coating of grime all over my hand from your dick.’ John twisted his wrist as his hand passed the head, and that's all it took for Ben to come, biting his lip so hard it drew blood.

As soon as he finished, John picked up the now soiled napkin and pushed it across Ben’s chest, leaving a new sticky trail leading to his stomach. Without a word, he picked up the medical scissors from the side table and began snipping away the restraints, rubbing the skin that was bound in a way that was soothing. Once he was free, Ben was being helped to sit upright on the table, feeling vulnerable suddenly.

‘I'll draw you a hot bath and get you cleaned up,’ John said, a familiar warmth flowing back into his voice.

Ben smiled softly. ‘Thank you, John.’


End file.
